


Green Thumb

by deskclutter



Category: Princess Tutu
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-24
Updated: 2014-09-24
Packaged: 2018-02-18 16:20:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 474
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2354810
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/deskclutter/pseuds/deskclutter
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Saturdays were rest days, when Fakir laid down his pen and Ahiru put her dancing aside (after morning practice, of course)</p>
<p>Written for Fakiru Week 2014: Green. Set post-canon, with Ahiru as a human.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Green Thumb

Saturdays were rest days, when Fakir laid down his pen and Ahiru put her dancing aside (after morning practice, of course), and they went hand-in-hand down to the garden, where sunflowers grew tall and bright, cheerfully turning to them as they walked down the garden path.

This had begun some months back, when Ahiru said to Fakir (after everyone had scolded him for overworking and making himself so, so sick), "What do you think the knight of the story would have done when he retired?"

"What, you mean if he hadn't been torn to pieces?" had said Fakir, the dryness of a scorching desert in his voice. He was sulking about being confined to bedrest, but Ahiru tried not to make faces at him (or at least not when he was looking, ehehe). And then he had shrugged. "The knight would never have laid down his sword. He was too caught up in the story and the only fate for him was death."

"Imagine if he'd broken the story, like you!" Ahiru insisted.

"What would Princess Tutu have done if she hadn't disappeared in a flash of light?" Fakir retorted.

"Princess Tutu could never retire," Ahiru said in a voice of resolute conviction. Though she ruined the effect by sticking out her tongue at Fakir.

"Hmph," said Fakir.

Silence reigned for a bit. Then Ahiru tapped Fakir's shoulder. "Hey, Fakir."

He opened one eye to stare sidelong at her. "What?"

"I was thinking of Freya, you know, and she always seems so calm and happy, and then I wondered... Would the knight have liked to garden, do you think?"

"The knight had no interests outside of the prince's welfare," Fakir replied loftily.

"Oh," said Ahiru, so obviously downcast that he had to bite back a grin.

"Pay attention. I'm not the knight."

"Eh?" said Ahiru, glancing up quickly in bewilderment.

"What 'eh', " Fakir muttered, pretending he wasn't blushing.

Ahiru poked his arm _hard_. "Hey, Fakir," she had said, smiling up at him. " Shall we make a garden so that when Autor and Charon tell you not to work so hard, you can point to the garden and say," -- she assumed an exaggerated scowl and deepened her voice -- "'Look, I don't work too hard at all' and then go back to doing work?"

Fakir thought about protesting her inaccurate impression. He thought about giving her a slightly harder time before he graciously accepted. He thought of all the ways in which they could find out that neither of them were good at gardening. He thought about Raetzel, who was good at giving advice about such things.

So in the end, Fakir had simply said, "Yes."

And so, on Saturdays they went into the garden, wearing comically broad hats and armed with spade and trowel, and there they tended to the sunflowers, which glowed with life.


End file.
